


pink cheeks and a pounding heart

by antijosh



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, High School, M/M, Prom, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, guilty pleasure fic at its finest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-16 16:36:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10575240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antijosh/pseuds/antijosh
Summary: Mission: Make Josh Like MinghaoOr, the one where Minghao has a hopeless crush on a senior and his friends are assholes about it. Welcome to high school.





	1. part one

**Author's Note:**

> so a few things
> 
>   * this fic took me a year to finish. just. yeah. (p.s. fuck u chris i told you i'd finish it) 
>   * special thanks to [nisa](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nisakomi) for love/excitement/beta services. //throws glitter and flower petals @ you// 
>   * for the purposes of this fic, i've decided to make junhui a bit of an ass. its an au and i needed one so. just know that. spoiler: he redeems himself and all is well in the end 
> alright thats it please enjoy!!!


"Shit, he's coming," Minghao whispers, ducking to hide behind Hansol, but it's too late--he's been seen.

"Hey Haohao," Joshua smiles as he passes. Minghao groans. Chan and Hansol are snickering when he steps out from behind them, making him scowl.  


"I can't believe you still let him call you that," Hansol grins. "It's funny enough when Junhui does it just because he knows you hate it, but Joshua has no idea does he?"

Minghao winces. "I can't break him like that. He still thinks of me as the little kid he tutored in English."  


"If you were the badass you want people to think you are, you wouldn't care about hurting his feelings," Chan points out, earning himself a shove on the arm.  


"Shut up and go to class," Minghao says. It's not like he can tell them that he can't hurt Joshua’s feelings because he’s been harboring a crush on the guy since the seventh grade. They’d  _ never _ let it go.

As Chan disappears into the crowd of teenagers, Minghao asks: "Why'd we make friends with a freshman anyway?"

"Something about cultivating the next generation, but also because I like to remind you of how old you are," Hansol answers.

"It's not my fault I got held back a year, stupid California school system,” Minghao gripes. "I'm getting new friends. Consider yourself replaced."

Before Hansol has a chance to respond, hall monitor Jihoon is shooing them off to class with the threat of yet another pink slip.

* * *

Minghao and Joshua share exactly one class together: fourth period Chinese. Minghao was pushed to take Spanish by his counselor, but chose to take Chinese instead for an easy A; Joshua is just too good of a student and wanted to take another elective. Minghao will never understand why.

They don't sit together because Hong and Xu are too far from each other alphabetically, meaning that Joshua sits in the middle of the room and Minghao in the back corner next to some asshole with the last name Yoon. (Minghao would never say that aloud though, because Yoon is one of Joshua's close friends. He thinks it’s pretty ironic that the angel church boy is friends with baby satan himself, but friendship is a funny thing.)

Their teacher passes out a worksheet and tells them to work quietly while she leaves the room for a few minutes, and Minghao sees his chance. As soon as the door shuts behind her and the expected ruckus kicks up, he slips out of his seat, leaving Yoon to snooze on his own. He’s almost to the back door when he hears someone call out: “Hao!”

Joshua Hong has the eyes of a hawk, and Minghao hates it. “Where are you going?” he asks.

“I gotta piss,” Minghao answers smoothly. “You can sit next to Jeonghan while I’m gone.”

“No, I’ll come with you,” Joshua insists. Minghao hates his life.

Because Joshua Hong is a good person who doesn't want Minghao to get in trouble, he walks Minghao to the nearest bathroom, and fucking watches him walk in. This isn't even a bathroom he can smoke in (there's no windows), so he settles for rinsing his hands off and taking a good look at himself in the mirror. 

The pink dye is slowly fading from his hair, and knows he he should redo it soon, or he’ll be left a gross grey blonde. The perm he got on a whim a while back is long gone, save for a few bits of his bangs that fall in ways they shouldn't. The remnants of a few all nighters are still on his face in the form of dark circles and blotchy skin. He scrunches his nose at the sight of himself; there is no world in which Joshua would like him. He's not cute and dainty like the girls Joshua dates. He's lanky and scrawny and smokes and gets bad grades--everything Joshua doesn't like. It's a miracle they're still friends, Minghao thinks.

Tired of thinking about himself, Minghao wipes his still-damp hands on the front of his jeans and leaves the bathroom to face Joshua again.

“You didn't find a way to smoke in there, did you?” Joshua asks. Minghao scowls.

“You did that on purpose?” 

“Of course,” Joshua says. “I know what Junhui got you into.”

“It's not a big deal,” Minghao replies, rolling his eyes. Joshua starts off down the hall, and Minghao immediately clings to his heels like a lost puppy. He hates to admit it, but he prefers being with Joshua to being alone most of the time.

“No girl is gonna want to kiss you with cigarette breath,” Joshua retorts, and Minghao snorts as he tries to hold back full-blown laughter. “What?” Joshua asks.

“I'm not interested in kissing any girls,” Minghao smirks when he finally pulls himself together enough to speak.

“Boys then,” Joshua huffs unfazed.

“There's just one anyway,” Minghao shrugs. “And I don't think cigarette breath will be the thing stopping him.”

“Don't sell yourself short, any guy would be lucky to date you,” Joshua says, placing a comforting hand on Minghao’s shoulder. Minghao feels torn between crying and laughing. 

“Let’s just go back to class,” is what he decides to say, before slipping away from Joshua’s hand and sprinting to his seat as soon as he enters the room. He’s afraid he’s made too much noise and Jeonghan will wake up, but the asshole snoozes on, leaving Minghao to angst over Joshua in peace.

* * *

His angst carries over to the next day, and he finds himself zoning out at lunch, choosing to think about how nice it would be to make out with Joshua in a broom closet rather than listen to Seungkwan’s incessant chattering. 

“Earth to Minghao, do you copy?” Hansol snickers, waving his hand in front of Minghao’s face. 

“Jesus you're a nerd,” Seungkwan shakes his head. He snatches some fries from Hansol’s tray, and Hansol pouts.

Minghao rolls his eyes, now fully aware of what his idiot friends were doing. “What did you want, Hansol?” he asks.

“I asked you if you think I should ask Yerim on a date,” Hansol says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the lunch table.

“Where are you gonna take her, to the Chik-Fil-A playplace? You’re too young to date,” Minghao scoffs. Hansol throws a soggy fry at his head, which Minghao barely dodges.

“Shut up, you're only a few months older than me anyway,” Hansol grumbles. 

“Whatever. Isn't she in Chan’s class? Have you asked him what he thinks?” Minghao asks. Seungkwan seems to laugh at that.

“He hasn't asked Chan yet, even though I told him to already.” Seungkwan sounds like a nagging wife, which makes Minghao smile.

“Fine, fine I’ll ask him, jeez,” Hansol says. Seungkwan nods proudly and snags another fry.  “What about you then, do you want to date?” It takes Minghao a second to realize the question is directed at him.

“No,” he answers quickly. “I don't like anyone here enough.”

“Don't lie,” Seungkwan teases. “There's enough people in this school for you to like at least one of them.”

Minghao rolls his eyes, but he can feel his heart beating faster than usual. At least Joshua isn't in the cafeteria, he thinks.

“I think there's someone and you're just not telling us,” Seungkwan continues. “Who is it? A sophomore? Maybe it's a junior or a senior, that would be cute. If you ask them out they can take you to prom in the spring.”

“I'm not going to fucking prom, now would you stop being so damn nosy?” Minghao snaps. “Mind your own business and keep pining over that guy that graduated last year.”

“Seungcheol,” Hansol supplies helpfully. Seungkwan goes silent and sits back, gnawing on his bottom lip.

“I gotta go,” Minghao grumbles. He's starting to feel the heavy press of guilt in his chest--he shouldn't have snapped at Seungkwan, the kid just likes playing matchmaker. But it's too late to apologize now, so Minghao grabs his backpack from under the table and walks out of the cafeteria without a second thought.

Body on autopilot, Minghao heads for the library. Nobody will bother him there until third period starts, and even then he can get out of it--the librarian likes him. He's not really sure why, but he's not one to question an advantage like that.

He wanders back to his favorite corner, behind the shelves with bird watching guides and plant identification books. Minghao puts his back to the wall and lets himself slide down until he's sitting on the floor, knees to his chest. Fishing his phone and headphones from his backpack, he gives his head a shake to make the hood of his jacket fall from his head.

Head falling back to rest against the wall with a dull thunk, Minghao puts his headphones on and turns them up as loud as he can handle, fully intending on tuning out everything for as long as possible.

However, he only gets a few minutes of blessed alone time before he's interrupted.

“Hey asshole.” It's Hansol; Minghao can tell his best friend’s voice without taking his headphones off. A foot nudges his thigh once, and then again, harder, when Minghao doesn't react. 

It's only when Hansol’s foot comes dangerously close to Minghao’s ribs that Minghao finally looks up, annoyed, and pulls his headphones off his ears.

“What do you want?” he asks, scowling.

“To talk to the sad fucker I call my best friend,” Hansol answers. Minghao rolls his eyes, but Hansol plops down on the floor next to him anyway, shoving his thigh against Minghao’s bony hip in the process. “So,” Hansol starts. “What the fuck was that at lunch?”

“Was it not clear that there's nothing to talk about?” Minghao asks, looking at the shelves opposite them rather than Hansol’s face.

“You wouldn't be that defensive--and that big of a dick--if there was nothing to talk about. So what's up?” Hansol is observant and a good friend--which Minghao currently hates.

“You've already guessed I’m interested in someone, let's just leave it at that.” Minghao turns his head to look at the farthest wall, so the back of his head is facing Hansol. He's hoping it will make the younger leave him alone, but it doesn't work. Minghao hates everything.

“I'm not going to watch you be all angsty and lonely cause you think you're not good enough for someone. That's what it is right, you think you're not good enough?” Minghao groans, and Hansol takes it as confirmation that he's right.

“So who is it?” he presses. “I'm sure they're not too good for you or whatever, but I can't help you if you don't tell me who it is.”

“I never asked for your help.” Minghao finally turns to face Hansol, fixing him with a glare that makes freshmen quiver with fear. Hansol just shrugs.

“I'm your best friend--I’ll help you whether you ask me to or not.”

Minghao rolls his eyes, but finally relents. Hansol is the least blabber mouthed of all his friends anyway (except maybe Chan, but Chan is a baby and would be of little use in this situation).

“If you tell anyone I’ll kill you and make sure they never find your body,” he threatens, and Hansol’s face lights up. “It's Joshua. I like Joshua.”

“Joshua as in the senior?” Hansol asks.

“There's only one fucking Joshua in the school you idiot.” Minghao is back to hating his best friend again.

“That's so cute,” Hansol coos. Minghao groans, letting his head fall between his knees. “You should ask him out, you guys are close enough already.”

“There are several problems with that,” Minghao replies, but it's so muffled that Hansol knocks one of Minghao’s knobby knees with his own and makes him repeat it. 

“Those problems being?” Hansol asks.

“I'm pretty sure he's straight,” Minghao says, trying to make himself sound less sad than he actually is over that fact.

“Want me to ask for you?”

“Oh my god,  _ no _ .” Minghao’s eyes widen. “Don't talk to him about this, just let me handle it.”

“Well, handle it quickly,” Hansol says. “That way he can take you to prom and you can bone after and make it a magical night.”

“Please never talk about that again.”

“Or it can happen earlier.” Hansol shrugs. “Maybe you won't wait till prom, that's months away anyway. Just don't be a slut though," Hansol warns. "Buy him dinner before you try and sneak your hand down his pants.”

That's Minghao’s cue to leave, so he grabs his backpack and stands up without a word, leaving Hansol calling after him through the rows of bookshelves.

* * *

Minghao manages to run into Chan between his third and fourth periods, and they make plans to go hang out at a 7-11 after school. It's not the most thrilling thing in the world, but it will be free of the squealing of Chan’s little brother without the loneliness of Minghao’s own house. Besides, Chan usually doesn't make fun of Minghao too much, unlike other friends Minghao has (he swears he’ll abandon Hansol and Seungkwan one day for being too rude, but he can never quite bring himself to do it). 

Fourth period passes in a blur, but mostly because Minghao spends his time doodling in the margins of his notebook instead of actually taking notes. When the dismissal bell rings, he heads for the parking lot immediately.

He scans the crowd of teenagers for Chan, and finds him quickly. Minghao starts walking, but stops in his tracks when Hansol emerges from being Chan. He wants to run and hide, and find Chan when Hansol is already on a bus home, but it's too late. Chan has seen him and is waving him over, and Hansol has the dopiest grin on his face. Minghao shoots Hansol a glare before forcing a smile and making his way over to them.

“Heeyyyyy.” Hansol stretches the word way longer than it should be, and Minghao makes a face when he slings an arm around Minghao’s shoulders. Chan laughs at his discomfort. Hansol and Chan resume their conversation, something about a skateboard Chan is saving up for, and Minghao’s eyes scan the lot for Joshua. He spots him on the other side, talking to Jeonghan and a slim guy with black hair that Minghao doesn't recognize.

He tears his eyes away and forces himself to act interested in what his friends are talking about. When he hears the engines of the busses revving up, Minghao thinks he's never felt this relieved in his life. He turns one last time to see if Joshua has left yet, and is surprised to see that Joshua is looking at him too.

"Haohao!" Joshua calls from across the parking lot, and Minghao cringes. "Do you want a ride home?" Joshua is alone now, his friends probably having left to find their own rides home.

"Go get him," Hansol jokes, shoving Minghao towards Joshua. Minghao shoots a glare over his shoulder at Hansol before turning to Chan.

“Rain check?” he says, and Chan shrugs.

“Fine by me,” he replies. Minghao nods, and then turns back to face Joshua with a tight lipped smile.   


"Sure," he says, and there's a weird feeling in his chest as soon as he sees the way Joshua smiles warmly back at him.

Joshua's car looks like it's seen better days, Minghao notes as he approaches. It's an old Toyota in an ugly shade of taupe, but it looks like it could take a head on collision and come out unscathed. Minghao decides he's probably pretty safe in it.

As Minghao climbs in the passenger's seat, he's hit with a wave of artificial jasmine scent, and before he can stop himself he's asking: "Have you been picking up hookers in this thing?"  


"What?" Joshua asks, stopping himself from turning on the car to give Minghao a puzzled look.  


"Sorry," he apologizes immediately. "Your car smells...nice."

"Oh," Joshua's face cracks into a smile. "My mom drove my car the other day. She went a little crazy with the Febreze."

Minghao nods wordlessly, unsure of how else to respond. He tries to distract himself from how awkward he feels by running through everything he has to do this weekend: catch up on technology homework, finish an English assignment, go to Junhui’s party. 

“Shit,” he curses in a whisper. He'd nearly forgotten about the party. Junhui invited him weeks ago, said his parents were going out of town and taking his little brother with them, so he was throwing a party. Minghao had already asked Hansol and Chan if they were going, but both were busy. 

“Something wrong?” Joshua asks, breaking the silence.

“What?” Minghao snaps his head up.

“You're frowning, is something wrong?” Joshua sounds way too concerned for Minghao to handle.

“It's nothing,” he brushes it off, but then Minghao gets an idea. “Actually,” Minghao starts again, heart beating all too quickly. “Would you wanna come to Junhui’s party? Hansol has to watch his sister and Chan has a curfew and if I go alone…” he trails off.

“You’ll make bad choices,” Joshua finishes for him. “Yeah, I’ll go. My mom will probably throw  _ me _ a party after as a reward for socializing.”

Minghao cracks a smile at that. “Thanks man.”

“No problem,” Joshua shrugs.

Minghao doesn’t really do small talk, but he manages to answer all of Joshua’s questions about his classes and his other friends. Joshua laughs at the face Minghao makes when he asks about Hansol and Seungkwan, and Minghao thinks it’s a musical sound. Minghao is almost disappointed when Joshua pulls into his driveway.

“See you later, Hao!” Joshua waves as Minghao gets out, hauling his backpack with him. Minghao taps on the passenger’s side window, and Joshua rolls it down so he can hear what Minghao says next.

“You could come in,” Minghao shrugs. “My mom would love to see you again.”

“Maybe next time.” Joshua smiles apologetically. “I have choir practice tonight, I’m already running a little late. But another time I will, I promise!” There’s a few more waves and a big smile before Joshua finally leaves. Minghao stands in the driveway and watches Joshua’s piece of shit car disappear down the street before he lets himself go inside.

* * *

Before Saturday night hits, Minghao spends more time than he would like to admit standing in front of the mirror and trying to judge whether his outfit looks too trashy or not. He'd like to think that the joggers and muscle shirt make him look more athletic than he actually is, but frowns at how skinny he looks. In the end he decides that Joshua will have to deal with him looking like he just rolled out of bed, and throws a hat on to hide his messy hair before jogging downstairs to wait for Joshua to pick him up.

He bites his lip to keep himself from smiling when he sees Joshua’s car pull up in the driveway through the kitchen window. Joshua smiles back at him when he gets in, and Minghao has to look away because Joshua Hong has his hair pushed up off his forehead and is smiling so wide that his eyes crinkle at the corners and holy shit even his eyebags look attractive. 

They don’t let the ride fall into silence, which Minghao is grateful for. Joshua turns up the radio and cracks terrible jokes that gets the both of them to loosen up. Minghao laughs so hard his stomach hurts and he’s on the verge of tears when Joshua’s attempt to rap along to a song turns into the worst freestyle Minghao has ever heard. 

When they get there, there’s no chance for them to pull into the driveway because the driveway is already packed. Joshua finds an empty stretch of curb a few houses down and parks there, making an offhand comment about annoying Junhui’s neighbors that Minghao can't help but smile at. Only Joshua would worry about that kind of thing. 

Even from the street it's clear Junhui’s got a house full of unsupervised teenagers, from the flashing lights through the windows when it's not even dark yet to the suspicious smoke rising from behind the house. Minghao shakes his head as he leads the way in, unsurprised to find the front door unlocked.

Some obnoxious Flo Rida song is blaring through the speakers, and Minghao heaves a mental sigh at Junhui’s taste in music. He sees lots of faces he recognizes, some from school, graduates, and other friends of Junhui’s. 

He glances back to Joshua behind him, and frowns at the expression on Joshua’s face. He looks nervous and out of place, denim button up standing out in the sea of muscle shirts and leather jackets. 

“Hey,” Minghao says, tapping Joshua’s shoulder. “You got an undershirt on?”

Joshua nods, and Minghao grins. “Good. Take your shirt off.” Minghao doesn't realize how weird it is for him to watch Joshua unbutton his shirt until it's happening, so he clears his throat awkwardly and averts his eyes to scan the room.

“Now what?” Joshua asks. His white tee seems to glow in the weird lighting, and Minghao is acutely aware of the slight slope of Joshua’s chest that he can see through the thin fabric.

“Here, let me,” Minghao says. He takes the shirt from Joshua’s hands and steps forward, wrapping the arms around Joshua’s waist and tying them in the front. “There. Now you fit in.”

“Thanks Haohao,” Joshua smiles. Minghao smiles back and ignores the urge to cry at how good Joshua looks like this.

It seems like most of the people Minghao knows, including Junhui, have congregated in the living room, so that's where he leads Joshua.

“Hao, you made it! And you brought Josh!” Junhui sounds way too excited, and Minghao is wary of how quickly he gets up to hug both of them.

“I didn't know you two were close,” Minghao mutters when Junhui finally releases Joshua.

“We’re not,” Joshua whispers back.

Junhui returns to his perch on the arm of the couch, and Joshua takes a seat all the way at the other end. More people arrive, and Junhui greets them, but this time he sits down closer to Joshua. Minghao watches warily from the floor, but doesn't think much of it. Seungcheol, the graduate Seungkwan still harbors a crush on, strikes up a conversation with him, so Minghao is distracted.

“What are you doing here?” Minghao hears Junhui ask, but he doesn’t sound upset.

“Sorry,” Joshua apologizes. “Minghao invited me.” Seungcheol shuts up, and Minghao turns his full attention to Junhui and Joshua. 

“I’m surprised you accepted. I thought you didn’t associate with me anymore,” Junhui replies, and the room goes tense. Some of the others (Mingyu and friends) start to giggle, but all Minghao can focus on is how uncomfortable Joshua looks.

It’s clear Josh is at a loss for words, and though Minghao doesn’t know the situation, he still wants to help. He just doesn’t know how.

“It’s okay, Ji,” Junhui teases, jostling Joshua’s shoulder.  _ Ji?  _ Minghao thinks.  _ That’s a new one.  _ “Forgive and forget, right?”

“Yeah,” Josh agrees, voice shaky. Minghao grows more and more uncomfortable himself by the second. Junhui is too close to Josh, his tone too suggestive--Minghao doesn’t like it at all.

“Of course,” Junhui continues. “I don’t think I could ever really forget.” He draws out the vowels in ‘really’, tone rising, insinuating something that both sparks Minghao’s curiosity and makes him want to punch Junhui in the face.

“Hey.” It's not his own voice, he thinks. It can't be. 

Everyone's eyes are on Minghao, and he clears his throat before speaking up again. “Leave him alone Jun, he clearly doesn’t wanna talk about that shit.”

“Since when do you speak for seniors?” Junhui asks, quirking an eyebrow. Minghao relaxes as Junhui pulls away from Joshua.

“Since you started being an ass to people,” Minghao bites back.

“Whatever,” Junhui scoffs, and the tension diffuses. Jun gets up off the couch, probably wandering off to go find more booze, leaving Joshua sitting by himself looking small and sad.

Before Minghao can make his way over to him, Joshua stands up and walks over to Minghao instead.

“Do you need a ride home? If you don't I think I'm gonna go,” he asks, biting his lower lip.

“I'll find a ride, don't worry,” Minghao replies quickly. It doesn’t cross his mind to protest that they’ve just gotten there, because the look on Joshua’s face is making Minghao’s chest ache. Before he can sputter out an apology, Joshua is gone, weaving his way through all of Junhui’s friends and to the door. Minghao watches him go, guilt settling in the center of his chest.

Out of the corner of his eye, Minghao sees Seungcheol get up from where he was perched on the arm of a chair and head for the kitchen. Without a second thought, Minghao follows him.

“Hey Seungcheol,” he calls once they're in the hallway. Seungcheol turns around, surprised, but relaxes when he sees its Minghao.

“What do you want kid?” he asks, voice sounding too tired for a party.

“What's Jun’s deal with Joshua? He's never mentioned anything to me about it before.”

Seungcheol’s eyes flash to the ceiling in what Minghao thinks must be a silent prayer, and he sighs before saying, “Let me get my beer first, then I’ll tell you.”

Minghao lingers in the hallway and watches Seungcheol make his way to a cooler and pull out a beer.

“Want one?” he calls over his shoulder, and Minghao shakes his head when Seungcheol looks back at him. “Your loss,” Seungcheol shrugs. He pops the top as he approaches, and leans one shoulder against the wall next to where Minghao is standing.

“So?” Minghao prompts. “What happened?”

Seungcheol takes a swig of his beer before he answers. “Jun’s been trying to screw Joshua since their freshman year. He's annoyed Joshua still hasn't let him.”

“Isn't Joshua straight?” Minghao asks.

Seungcheol snorts into his beer bottle. “That's what he wants everyone to think. He doesn't really tell people, but he's known he was bi since he was a freshman. I think he spent all of middle school trying to pray it away, but high school changed shit. Anyway, Junhui almost kissed him once sophomore year, and I don’t think the two of them have spoken ever since.”

“Oh.” Is all Minghao can say.

“He doesn't like to advertise it, so don't bring it up, kid,” Seungcheol continues, setting his now-empty beer bottle down on the hall table beside him. He gives Minghao a pat on the shoulder before wandering off, leaving the younger to stand bewildered in the hallway.

The hopeful part of Minghao’s brain told him that this changed everything; this meant he had a chance. He tried his best to shut up the part that told him this was only one obstacle down of many. 

He glances into the other room to see them playing some card game, and Junhui trying to pull Wonwoo onto his lap. Minghao doesn’t want to go back in there, so he stays put, back starting to press uncomfortably against the wall.

He's alone until some blonde guy, (Soonyoung, a senior, he later remembers), stumbles down the hallway high as a kite with an edible in his hand.

“Want some?” He thrusts his hand out to offer it to Minghao. Minghao considers it for a moment. It wouldn't be his first time, but he wasn't sure if it would make his guilt lessen or grow.

“Nah,” he finally answers. It's not worth it, he thinks. He's sure he'd do some dumb shit while high that Joshua could find out about, and he isn't prepared to deal with Joshua’s disappointment. Not now that he has a chance, anyway.

Soonyoung shrugs and walks away, nearly knocking a lamp over as he rounds a corner. Minghao has to stifle a snort. 

He decides that's his cue to go, so he wanders off to find Junhui and say his goodbyes. It's not too far to his house and since he's leaving earlier than normal, it's feasible for him to walk home, so that's what he plans on.

He finds Junhui in his room, laughing and drinking with some of the other seniors, and Seungcheol.

“Hey asshole,” he says loud enough to be heard over the commotion.

“Want to join us?” Junhui asks, motioning to the bed where he's sitting. Minghao shakes his head.

“I'm going home. See you Monday.” He's halfway out the door, but he can still hear Junhui’s huff of ‘ungrateful little bastard’.

“Hey kid!” It's Seungcheol; he's followed Minghao out into the hallway. “You need a ride?” he asks when Minghao turns around to face him.

“I'll walk,” Minghao says, but Seungcheol shakes his head.

“Come on, I'll drive you. I want to leave anyway.” Minghao just nods, and ends up following Seungcheol down the stairs and out to his car--a silver Jetta parked on the curb. 

Seungcheol makes Minghao put his address into the GPS, and for a while the only sound Minghao can hear is the hum of the engine and the occasional directions given by an automated voice. It’s damn near driving him crazy, and he has so many questions he wants to ask Seungcheol. Finally, he decides that enough is enough and opens his mouth. 

“Can you tell me anything else about Joshua? You guys were close right?” Minghao asks. He's curious--before tonight, he didn't know Seungcheol and Joshua even knew each other, but apparently there's a lot about Joshua that he doesn't know.

“He's not as careful as he should be. He's gotten his heart broken before and he’ll let it happen again if there's no one to look out for him.” Minghao wasn't expecting so much from Seungcheol right away, and he's a little taken aback.

“You mean me? He's the one that watches over me, not the other way around,” he replies truthfully. Even if he wishes Joshua didn't see him as a baby that needs protection, there's no way he'd be able to watch out for Joshua.

“You're a smart kid, Minghao. Just be careful with him okay?” Seungcheol looks away from the road for a moment to shoot Minghao a knowing look. Minghao doesn't like where this is going.

“I don't know what you mean,” Minghao lies.

“I saw how you looked at him, how you stood up for him. You've got a thing for him, don't you?” Seungcheol’s question gives Minghao chills--if he can figure it out, what's to stop Joshua from doing the same?

“Is it that obvious?” Minghao asks, cringing at himself as he does.

Seungcheol nods, but he must sense Minghao’s fear because he says, “Don't worry about Joshua picking up on it--he’s pretty oblivious to that stuff.”

Minghao sighs with relief, and it must have been loud enough for Seungcheol to hear because he huffs with held back laughter.

Seungcheol hums softly when he pulls into Minghao’s driveway, and Minghao gets out without much acknowledgement, turning at the very end to whisper a rushed “thank you.”

“Good luck kid,” Seungcheol huffs, giving a small wave before pulling back and driving away. 

* * *

Minghao spends Sunday holed up in his room, doing his best to not think about Joshua going to church and being a good wholesome boy who would never consort with the likes of Xu Minghao, neighborhood trash extraordinaire. 

He’s been moping in peace all day, but as soon as he lays down to sleep, his phone buzzes. He ignores it, throwing his arm over his face to cover his eyes. He’s almost asleep when it buzzes again, and he sits up with a groan to put the damn thing on silent. As soon as he grabs it though, he sees a message from Joshua.

_ I’ll pick you up tomorrow. Don’t say you’re fine--I want to. See you at 7! _

Minghao does his best to keep a straight face, but when he remembers he’s alone in his room his face breaks out into a stupid grin that would put Hansol’s dopey smiles to shame.

The other message is much less exciting--just a text from Chan asking if he wants to go somewhere after school tomorrow. Minghao locks his phone again without answering--he’ll just find Chan at school tomorrow. He has much more important things to focus on now, like how he’s going to apologize to Joshua for inviting him to Jun’s party. He frets over what he's going to say until he falls asleep, anxious but still excited to see Joshua tomorrow.

* * *

Joshua Hong is a prompt bastard, and is sitting in his car in Minghao's driveway at exactly seven a.m., while Minghao is still tugging on a hoodie and combing his fingers through his hair in an effort to make it look at least half decent. He takes one look in the hall mirror on his way out, and groans because he still looks like a mess. There's not enough time to fix it though, and he's already kept Joshua waiting long enough, so he tries to forget it and walk out the door without looking at himself again.

Joshua is humming when Minghao slides in the passenger's seat, and he gives Minghao the cutest smile he’s ever seen as he tells him “good morning, Haohao!”

Minghao tries his best to fake enthusiasm and say the same back, but Joshua sees right through it and laughs at him.

“You never were a morning person,” he chuckles, and Minghao just nods in agreement.

Joshua gives him some time to wake up before he speaks again, which Minghao is grateful for. When he finally does start talking again, it's with a question.

“So how was Jun’s party?” he asks.

“Fine,” Minghao says quickly. He doesn't want Joshua to feel guilty about leaving him there, or let him know that he was the reason Minghao left early too.

“What’d I miss?” Joshua asks. “Anything fun happen after I left?”

“Not really.” Minghao shrugs. “Soonyoung got smacked. He offered me some too.”

“You didn't take it, did you?” Joshua sounds concerned.

“No I didn't,  _ mom _ .” Minghao rolls his eyes. “I stayed sober the whole night, even left early.”

“I'm proud of you,” Joshua says, and Minghao can't think of anything to say but a soft thanks. Joshua just nods, and the car falls into silence again. Minghao stares out the window for a few minutes, watching the neon signs light up in the early morning fog. Joshua turns up the radio, which is playing some Taylor Swift song Minghao doesn't recognize. The song ends, and before another one can begin Minghao reaches over and turns the radio off.

“I'm sorry I asked you to come with me,” he says awkwardly, followed by a cough. “I should have known you wouldn't have a good time.”

“It's fine, don't worry about it Hao.” Joshua Hong is too fucking kind, and Minghao doesn't know how to deal. It's like Joshua’s smile has him frozen, and it takes a lot of conscious thought before he can bring himself to smile back.

They let the rest of the drive pass in silence, and it's almost jarring to Minghao when he steps out of the car to hear the clambering of all his classmates. He gives a small wave through the window before Joshua drives off to go park, and for a moment he wishes he said thank you, but Joshua is already gone.

* * *

The party doesn't come up again until lunch. Mingyu actually manages to show up to his assigned lunch period for a change, so Minghao waves him over to sit with him, Hansol and Seungkwan.

“I’m still so tired,” Mingyu groans as he plops down next to Seungkwan, putting his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. Minghao has to take a second to marvel at the sheer mountain of food Mingyu has piled on his tray before he can direct his attention to what his friend is saying.

“When did you get home?” Seungkwan asks. Mingyu gives him a blank look, and Hansol snickers into his hand.

“That late, huh?” Hansol grins. “Hope it was fun.”

“Why don't I ever get invited to things?” Seungkwan pouts.

“In what world do twinky clarinet players get invited to parties?” Hansol snorts. Seungkwan looks scandalized, and Minghao can't stop himself from laughing out loud when Seungkwan smacks the back of Hansol’s head.

“All you percussionists are such dicks,” Seungkwan grumbles.

Minghao looks to Mingyu, hoping to share an unspoken  _ band kids, am I right? _ , but he's met with the same blank stare as before. Minghao has never wished more that the freshmen could have lunch with them--Chan is his only hope at having a normal friend.

“Anything happen after I left?” Minghao asks Mingyu, leaving Hansol and Seungkwan to bicker among themselves.

“Not really,” Mingyu shrugs. “Soonyoung was so out of it they managed to convince him he’d shit himself and he sat in the bathtub till Junhui kicked him out.” He pauses, cramming the last of his burger in his mouth and barely chewing before gulping it down. “That was the highlight of the night.”

Minghao just nods, but Seungkwan gapes at that. When Seungkwan asks Mingyu if Soonyoung  _ really _ believed he shit himself, Minghao stops paying attention. 

* * *

Later that week, on Thursday, Hansol comes home with Minghao. They walk to his house from school, because Minghao has no intentions of allowing Hansol to be in a car with Joshua and himself: that's a disaster waiting to happen.

Hansol follows Minghao like a puppy up to his room, and is only a few steps behind him when Minghao bangs the door open and falls back onto his bed.

“I have a plan,” Hansol announces, dropping his backpack rather unceremoniously by Minghao’s doorway. Minghao turns over so his face is pressed into his pillow, and inhales the scent of his shampoo. It’s calming somehow, which is what he needs right now--nothing Hansol ever came up was not stressful. 

“Get up.” Hansol’s sharp tone is punctuated with a slap to Minghao’s calf. Minghao’s warble of pain is lost to the fluffy down of his pillow. When he turns over, Hansol is opening up his laptop, frowning when he sees Minghao has it password protected. “J-o-s-h-u-a,” Hansol spells out as he types, and Minghao pulls the pillow from underneath his head and lobs it at his best friend without a second thought. 

“Wushu1208.” Rolling his eyes, he flops back onto his back, wincing at the discomfort in his neck when his head hits the mattress. 

Hansol’s grin when he unlocks Minghao’s computer is worrying, but Minghao can’t bring himself to get up and stop him from whatever he’s about to do. Minghao cranes his head to see what Hansol is doing without getting up off his bed, and his brow furrows when he sees Hansol open a blank Google doc. Trying to read what he types is futile, so Minghao relaxes his head again and waits for Hansol to fill him in. 

“Okay now you actually need to get up,” Hansol says. “Come here and help me plan, dickweed.”

“I thought you had the plan already,” Minghao grumbles, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of his bad.

“Yeah, well, it’s in the formulation stage.” Minghao has to hold back rolling his eyes again at that, instead biting his tongue and standing up, slowly making his way over to his desk where Hansol is sitting. 

When Minghao looks over Hansol’s shoulder to read what he’s typed, he wants to shrivel up and die. All the page says is: “MISSION: MAKE JOSH LIKE MINGHAO.” Hansol looks up at him proudly. 

“We’ll make him like you then you won’t be so sad all the time and you can go to prom and give him a nice send off for his senior year, it’ll be perfect,” he says excitedly. Minghao groans. 

“Seungkwan’s been rubbing off on you,” he complains, and he regrets his words as soon as he sees the way Hansol’s face lights up.

“We should get Seungkwan in on it!” Hansol hisses excitedly, tugging on Minghao’s sleeve. Minghao is horrified. 

“No,” he snaps immediately. “We’re not making a plan, and we’re definitely not getting Seungkwan involved. I know you mean well but I can handle myself, just go worry about Yerim and whether or not she’ll like the ice cream date you have planned.” He huffs as soon as he’s finished, and sits back down on his bed, back slumped and eyes fixed on the floor by Hansol’s feet. 

“I just don’t like seeing you all mopey,” Hansol says, and Minghao is almost touched.

“Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine. I’d rather just handle this by myself, okay?” Minghao looks back up so his eyes meet Hansol’s, and he has too look away immediately because Hansol’s is giving him the big brown puppy eyes that can melt even Minghao’s ice cold heart. 

“Fine,” Hansol sighs, turning in the swivel chair so his back faces Minghao again.

There’s a few beats of silence before Minghao runs his hands through his hair and offers, “Do you wanna stay and play Portal or something?”

“You got food?” Hansol asks, turning around again with a hopeful look on his face.

“Noodles in the fridge and chicken nuggets in the freezer.”

“Sounds good to me.” Hansol grins. He closes the document on Minghao’s computer and stands up, pushing the chair back so hard it hits Minghao’s desk with a thump.

As Hansol follows him downstairs, Minghao offers up a silent prayer, hoping that Hansol will let it go and let Minghao forget about Joshua for a while. 

* * *

September passes quickly, and Minghao does his best to put his feelings aside and focus on school, though it’s not very easy. The months before midterms are always a bitch, and even Minghao’s birthday is almost forgotten in the chaos of it all. It’s not like he wants a big fuss, so he’s perfectly fine with what he gets: Hansol, Seungkwan and Chan showing up at his door with a sleepy Mingyu in tow. There’s a cake (sloppily iced, courtesy of Seungkwan), and Minghao’s parents let them take over the television and marathon cheesy movies all night. It’s not a lot, but it’s good.

Both Junhui and Joshua text him to wish him a happy birthday, but it’s only Joshua who brings him a present the next time they see each other.

They’re out in the parking lot waiting for buses to come when someone taps Minghao on the shoulder from behind. Minghao whirls around, preparing to confront Mingyu attempting to taunt him, but it’s just Joshua, with a wrapped present in his extended hand. It takes a moment for Minghao to process that it must be a birthday gift for him, because he's too busy focusing on the cute, hopeful look on Joshua's face.   
“Thank you,” he finally gets out, accepting the gift when Joshua practically thrusts it into his hands. “You didn't need to get me anything though.”  
“I wanted to,” Joshua defends with a smile. “Don't worry about it, it's just something small I thought you'd like.”

“Thank you,” Minghao repeats. The buses start honking, and Joshua waves him off with a smile. Minghao doesn’t open the gift until he’s in his seat, but when he does, his face splits into a grin. Joshua had gotten him headphones, the nice kind that won’t break easily. He must have actually listened to Minghao’s bitching when one ear of his headphones stopped working, and something about that made Minghao swell with happiness. 

It’s the little things that Joshua does that get Minghao the most. Every time he offers Minghao a ride when he doesn’t need one, every time he gives Minghao some of his lunch he packed that morning because Minghao overslept and doesn’t have lunch money again, every time he frowns at the mention of Minghao smoking or ignoring homework or doing literally anything that may be detrimental to him in any way. Minghao doesn’t really notice how much all the little things affect him until he talks to Hansol about it later that afternoon, sitting on the curb outside their neighborhood 7-11, slurpees in hand (because you can do that during a California November).

“He’s just so nice to me,” Minghao comments, straw pressed to his lips. “And like, I should be annoyed by it, but I’m not.”

“You two are basically married.” Hansol shrugs, slurping obnoxiously loud from his slurpee cup. 

“Dude, what the hell?” Minghao is so confused, and thinks that may be the most stupid thing Hansol has ever said in front of him.

“You’re constantly with each other, he makes sure you eat and stay out of trouble, I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me he did your laundry for you.” Hansol shrugs. Minghao thinks his brain is going to burst.

“I don’t think Joshua Hong knows how to operate a washing machine,” he settles on saying, hoping that Hansol will drop it.

“Do you?” Hansol asks, grinning because he knows he’s found something to annoy Minghao with. 

“Fuck off.” Minghao rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his soda and looking away from Hansol to scan the parking lot. He’s not sure what he’s looking for in an empty parking lot in front of a 7-11, but he definitely does not want to talk about Joshua any more after that. 

“How’s Yerim?” he asks, trying to get Hansol just as uncomfortable as he is. Much to Minghao’s dismay, Hansol just grins and takes another obnoxiously loud sip of his slurpee.

“She’s great,” he answers cheerfully. “Still haven’t asked her out yet, but I’m working on it. I think I’m going over to her place next week to tutor her in bio.”

Minghao shakes his head, laughing softly. “I never thought that your background as a science nerd would help you get a girl.”

“Hey,” Hansol says in mock offense, shoving Minghao’s shoulder with his own. “I’ll have you know that us nerds are a hot commodity now. Everyone wants to date someone smart to help them get into a good college or whatever.”

Minghao nods, taking a slow sip from his cup and avoiding the thought of Joshua tutoring him. 

“Did we have homework?” Hansol asks, changing the subject again. Minghao shrugs.

“Hell if I know,” he replies, and Hansol laughs loudly.

“I’ll ask Seungkwan,” Hansol says when he can speak normally again. “But really, you should try and focus a little more. Midterms are coming up, you don’t wanna start failing shit now.”

“I’ll be fine, I always am.” Minghao bumps Hansol’s shoulder lightly, the ghost of a smirk on his face. 

“Whatever man, it’s your funeral if you fail,” Hansol shrugs.

“You’ll help me study though,” Minghao grins confidently. “You’re too good a friend to leave me to suffer and die on my own.”

“Why don't you ask Joshua to help you study?” Hansol suggests, smiling around his slurpee straw. Minghao punches Hansol in the arm, hard enough to knock the straw from his friend’s mouth.

“Ow,” Hansol whines, drawing the sound out as he rubbed his arm dramatically. “It's not a bad idea, Hao. He's older than us, he knows what type of shit will be on the tests.”

“I thought you wanted me to focus,” Minghao replies. 

“Ah right, I forgot.” Hansol’s grin returns. “No way you could focus on hydrogen bonds when you're trying to  _ bond _ with Joshua.” His eyebrow waggle shows that he thinks he's just made the funniest joke ever, and Minghao stands up, making like he's going to leave.

“No no no don't leave, I'm sorry.” Hansol laughs though his apology, but Minghao sits back down. Not like he has anywhere better to be.

They talk for awhile more, till their slurpees are reduced to a few drops of artificially colored water clinging to the styrofoam. Hansol is picked up by a friend Minghao doesn't recognize, and Minghao begins his chilly walk home as the sun sinks below the skyline.

* * *

Minghao stays true to his word, and although Joshua offers, he only studies with Hansol and Mingyu. Mingyu isn't much help, but he provides much needed entertainment and snacks, so they let him stick around.

Miraculously, it works and Minghao passes all his midterms. While his friends celebrate, he sits relaxed, but thinking about what winter break will bring.

 


	2. part two

 

Minghao's not quite sure when Junhui worms his way back into his daily life, but he's definitely there now. He thinks it starts a little after winter break, because when he comes back to school, Junhui finds him outside. Minghao scoffs at the dumb fingerless gloves Junhui is wearing, but takes the cigarette extended from Junhui's bare fingers.   


“You got a light?” Junhui asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He looks around nervously, but when he realizes the coast is clear he cups his hands and blows into them before pulling his pack out of his chest pocket to get a cigarette for himself. 

Minghao pulls his lighter out of his backpack, flicking it and watching as Junhui huddles over the small flame. In the cold January air and shadowed by cloudy skies, Minghao is amused by how out of place the orange flame looks. What fits, however, is the grey smoke that rises from both his and Junhui's lips moments later, backs pressed to the cold brick. Even through his old school bomber jacket, it chills his spine. 

“How was break?” Minghao asks, finally breaking the silence between them again. He can't say he's actually all that interested, but he's making a conscious effort to not be a complete brat all of the time, and hey. Baby steps. 

“Fine.” Junhui shrugged. "Went back to China for a week or so, saw some extended family that cares only about my grades and not that much about what is actually going on in my life. The food was good though." They don't make eye contact, which Minghao is grateful for. He kind of pities Junhui right now, but he knows that if Junhui can tell that he'll get annoyed. Minghao understands; he hates being pitied too. 

“Yours?” Junhui asks. He actually looks over at Minghao this time, but Minghao just keeps his eyes trained on the fence line across the street.

“I stayed in my room and slept for two weeks,” Minghao jokes. He doesn't quite crack a smile, more of a smirk, but Junhui laughs at it anyway.

“Sounds like fun to me,” Junhui says, and Minghao doesn't doubt that he's serious. He takes another drag and then checks his watch, cursing when he sees the time. "What?" Junhui asks, sounding mildly annoyed.

“I'll be late and I smell like smoke,” Minghao huffs, snatching his backpack up off the ground and slinging it over his shoulder, reaching to snuff out his cigarette on the wall with his free hand. Junhui stops him before he can though, and takes the cigarette from Minghao's fingers.

“Don't be wasteful,” he says. Minghao rolls his eyes and leaves Junhui behind, hoping that no one in first period will smell the smoke on his clothes or care if he walks in two minutes past the bell. 

(They do care, all eyes turning to him when he walks in and the teacher making a  _ tsk _ sound under her breath, but if anyone suspects why he was late, they keep their mouths shut.)

* * *

 

Minghao’s not proud of it, but when Junhui asks if he wants a smoke after school a few days later, he doesn’t hesitate to say yes. It’s been a hard first week back, and he just needs to relax--at least, that’s how he justifies it to himself. Minghao and Junhui only sit together a minute before they’re interrupted.

“What are you doing?” It’s Joshua’s voice, coming seemingly out of nowhere, and Minghao starts; he thinks his heart may be permanently lodged in the back of his throat.

Joshua looks the most angry Minghao has ever seen him, arms crossed over his chest and brow furrowed in a glare. If Minghao is honest, he’s kind of afraid. He has the decency and common sense to drop his cigarette and crush it with his shoe, but Junhui looks Joshua straight in the eye as he takes another drag.

“I could be snorting crack off a hooker’s ass, consider yourself lucky.” Minghao rolls his eyes, trying to diffuse the tension by being casual. It doesn’t work. Joshua just stares at him harder, so he averts his eyes to the pavement at his feet.

“You’re too pretty for crack, it’d ruin your skin,” Junhui replies offhandedly, and Minghao shoots a glare at him off to the side.

“There’s lots of reasons for him to not do crack other than that,” Joshua says, sounding slightly exasperated (which Minghao takes a little bit of pleasure in).

“But I’m not doing crack, so there is no issue here,” Minghao cuts in again. 

Joshua ignores that. “I was going to offer you a ride home again, but you'll make my car reek of smoke.”

“Your mom would flip the fuck out, I get it,” Minghao replies. “I was capable of getting home on my own before you decided to drive me everywhere. I'll be fine.” He looks Joshua in the eye again, squinting slightly. The setting sun behind him surrounds Joshua in a halo of glowing orange, and he looks like the angriest angel ever. 

Without saying another word, Joshua turns on his heel and walks away.

“See you tomorrow!” Junhui calls after him in a mockingly friendly voice. Then, under his breath: “Petty bitch.”

“Hey,” Minghao scowls. “Don't call him a bitch.”

“Why, cause you're his bitch?” Junhui’s raised eyebrow irks Minghao, so he chooses to ignore the question, focusing on the glowing horizon instead.

* * *

 

Minghao’s got no lunch money for the second time this week, so when Hansol heads straight to the lunch line he goes to sit down at the table instead. Mingyu and Seungkwan are already there, bickering as usual. Minghao scans the room, not looking for anything in particular, but his attention is caught by a familiar face approaching him. 

“Are you hungry?” Josh asks, sitting down next to Minghao. His leg presses up against Minghao’s, hip to knee, and Minghao feels the need to move away, to put some more distance between them. That’s when he realizes that Joshua shouldn’t even be there.  
“Why are you in sophomore lunch?” he asks, brows knitting together in confusion. 

“Teacher let us out early.” Joshua shrugs. “Are you hungry?” he repeats. 

“...yes,” Minghao answers slowly. He's surprised that Joshua's being nice to him after he was a brat the other day, but Minghao knows he probably shouldn't be. Joshua's just that nice of a person.

“Good.” Joshua smiles. From his backpack, he pulls out a bag of three clementines and a bottle of water. 

“That’s your lunch?” Minghao deadpans. “That’s sad, Josh. Even for you.”

“Shut up.” Joshua’s still grinning, and bumps his shoulder into Minghao’s playfully. He starts methodically peeling his clementines, placing all the peel scraps in a neat pile off to the side. Minghao snags one to throw at the back of Hansol’s head. He hits it dead-on, but Hansol doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Here,” Joshua says, then his fingers are in Minghao’s face and it take him a moment to realize that Joshua is extending a few wedges of clementine to him. Joshua practically has it pressed up against Minghao’s lips, so rather than take it with his hands Minghao simply grabs the fruit with his teeth. He feels a bit of a shock go through his body when his lips touch Joshua’s cool fingers, and he swears he sees something change in Joshua’s expression for a second, before he pulls back and Josh’s face returns to normal. Across the table, someone clears their throat, and Minghao feels heat rising into his cheeks as he realizes that Mingyu and Seungkwan had witnessed the whole thing. Mingyu looks more in shock than anything else, while Seungkwan has his elbows on the table and his chin resting on his hands, giving Minghao a smug look. 

“Thanks,” Minghao says somewhat awkwardly, turning his attention back to Joshua.

“No problem.” Joshua’s smile is so genuine it makes Minghao’s heart hurt. “You can have more if you want.”

“No thanks, I’m good,” Minghao replies.

Across the table, Seungkwan mutters something that sounds like: “I’m sure you are.”

* * *

 

Mingyu and Seungkwan aren’t quite as asshole-ish about Minghao’s crush as Hansol is, but they come pretty close. Proud of themselves for figuring it out, the two of them take to jostling Minghao’s shoulders whenever they spot Josh in the hall, or whispering to each other loudly whenever Minghao and Josh interact in any way, shape, or form. Minghao just tries to keep his head down, but those two have no lives and think that teasing him is their only pastime. 

“Look who it is,” Seungkwan fake whispers excitedly as they pass Josh in the hall.

“This is why I don’t ever tell you anything,” Minghao mutters before walking away. Seungkwan calls after him, but it’s Hansol that actually follows. “You have to stop doing that,” Minghao complains. “Clearly I don’t want to deal with you all right now.”

Hansol ignores the insult with grace, grabbing Minghao by the arm and pulling him into a stairwell. “You need help, my friend,” he says as he drags Minghao down to sit next to him on the steps. “It’s been actual months and you’re still mopey and won’t talk about it. You just need to tell the guy.”

“That’s an awful idea. Is there anything else, or can I go?” Minghao asks dryly. 

“I’m serious man. If it hasn’t gone away by now, it probably won’t go away until you do something about it,” Hansol urges.

“He doesn’t even like me back, what good will telling him do?”

“You won’t feel like you have to hide how you feel from him anymore,” Hansol points out. “Look, if you like someone, you should tell them and then go from there. Even if it hurts and you don’t want to or you’re scared, you should tell them.”

Minghao considers that for a second. “That’s actually...not awful advice.”

“Thanks,” Hansol beams. “I got it from Grey’s Anatomy.”

“Aaaand you ruined it.”

“You should just go for it, he probably jerks it thinking about you just as much as you do thinking about him,” Hansol encourages, once again ignoring Minghao’s attempts to get him to stop talking.

“Is that from Grey’s Anatomy too?” Minghao asks sarcastically, and Hansol shakes his head.

“All me bro,” he replies, clearly proud of himself.

“I could tell.”

“Hey!” Hansol punches him in the arm and then laughs it off.

“I’ll think about it,” Minghao says, turning serious for a moment. Hansol only nodded in reply, and the two made their way back out into the hall.

Throughout the rest of the day, Minghao tries to put Hansol’s advice out of his head but finds it impossible. The kid has a point; if he tells Joshua, then he wouldn’t have to hide so much. And maybe he wouldn’t feel like crap so much either. On his way home, he makes up his mind. He would do it tomorrow. Hansol was right; It was time.

* * *

 

Anticipation made Minghao feel sick to his stomach, but somehow he still manages to get through the day and make it to the parking lot without passing out. He scans the crowd over and over until his eyes settle on the one face he was looking for. He didn’t give any thought to how he’d do it, so Minghao just calls “Josh!” and hopes for the best. Joshua’s head snaps up, mouth forming an instant smile, and he ducks through the crowd to get to Minghao. As he watches Joshua grow closer, Minghao can feel his heart sinking into his stomach. 

“What’s up?” Josh asks innocently when he reaches Minghao. 

“Can I come over later?” Minghao shoves his hands in his pockets as he speaks, rocking slightly forward onto the balls of his feet in nervousness. 

“How about now?” Joshua offers. “I can just take you home with me now, if that’s alright.” There’s a half beat of silence, and then: “Is everything okay Haohao?”

“Yeah,” Minghao replies brusquely. “Everything’s fine. I just want to spend some time with my favorite senior, that’s all.” He punctuates his words with a half hearted and out of character playful punch to Joshua’s shoulder, which he regrets as soon as he does it. Joshua looks at him quizzically for a moment, but then shrugs it off with a smile. 

“My car is parked over on the side.” Joshua jerks his thumb over his shoulder in that general direction, and when he turns around Minghao follows him through the crowd and to his beat up Toyota. 

The silence after they get in makes Minghao uneasy, and rightfully so. He can see Joshua’s fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel, his eyes almost too fixated on the road ahead. Something was on his mind now, too. Minghao turns the radio on for some white noise, but even that doesn’t help much.

When they get to the house, Josh finally makes some small talk as he ushers Minghao inside, but Minghao knows him well enough to know that he’s just being a polite. They’ve sat down on the couch together when Joshua finally says something of importance.

“Minghao, I think we need to talk.” Minghao feels his stomach drop to his feet. 

“Okay,” he replies, putting nearly all of his energy into keeping a straight face. “What about?”

“What’s been up with you lately? Hanging out with Junhui all the time, back to smoking again? Is everything alright?” Joshua asks, voice overflowing with gentle concern. “With me, you’re the same as you’ve always been but with him….I’m worried about you Minghao.”

“I have something I should tell you,” Minghao replies. He tries to steady his breathing and looks at the dirt beneath his feet before Josh speaks. 

“Oh. Okay, what’s up?” Josh asks, brows furrowing in a mixture of concern and confusion. 

There’s no more delaying now, Minghao thinks. This is it. “I like you, Josh. I have actual, more-than-friends feelings for you.”

Minghao thinks he can feel his heart pounding in every inch of his body as soon as the words leave his mouth, and he has to avert his eyes to the floor for a moment to try and calm himself. When he looks back up, Joshua is looking at him with pity, as a babysitter might look at a silly child who asked them out. Minghao's heart sinks, and he's already preparing himself to cry when he gets home. Not that he'd ever admit it, of course.

There's the best possible outcome at this point, which is a reluctant yes; the worst, a flat-out no. Minghao doesn't spend much time on anything in between. If there's one thing about Joshua that he knows, it's that he's the type to ignore a problem and smile till it goes away. Minghao can only hope he's not that kind of problem.

“Minghao, I’m sorry,” Joshua starts, and Minghao’s heart drops to his feet. This is it. This is everything he hoped wouldn’t happen. “You are a great person and a wonderful friend but I….I’m going off to college at the end of this year. You’re still a sophomore, it’s not fair to you.”

“I don’t need it to be fair.” Minghao expected his voice to be weaker, shakier, but his words come out with more strength than he thought possible.

“Minghao,” Josh repeats. 

“I--” Minghao starts to speak, but his voice catches. The strength he had just a moment ago is gone, taken by one soft repetition of his own name. He feels heat pricking at his eyes, and he takes a deep breath to steady himself before he continues. “I get it. You don’t think of me that way. Forget I said anything.”

“I’m sorry,” Joshua says again. “Maybe….maybe it’d be good to take some time off from each other.”

Minghao feels his sadness turn into something different, a more bitter kind of hurt when he hears that. 

“Yeah, okay. If that’s what you want,” he gets out as he stands up, preparing to leave.

“Minghao, don’t go yet.” Josh says, sounding on the edge of desperation. Minghao takes a kind of sick pleasure in that. “We’ve barely talked about this.” He stands up too, and reaches out a hand, maybe to grab Minghao’s own, but he doesn’t get the chance. Minghao steps back, away from him, and shakes his head.

“I don’t think there’s any more for us to talk about. I like you, you don’t like me, you think we need to stop hanging out so often. It seems pretty simple to me.” Joshua’s too stunned to protest--probably from Minghao’s bluntness--and Minghao uses the doe-eyed silence to turn on his heel and leave. He’s glad Josh’s mom isn’t home, because he walks straight out the door and doesn’t look back. 

The walk home, Minghao’s body feels like it’s in a state of shock. No crying, no questioning, just a strange twisting feeling in his gut and a rapid heartbeat. The normally twenty minute walk through suburban neighborhoods passed in what feels like just a few short minutes, and he’s almost surprised when he’s walking up his own driveway and still no tears have come.

When he gets inside however, to his own room, it’s a very different story. Then, Minghao cries. He cries big, ugly tears. The kind that make your whole body shake and your throat hurt and your face turn red--the kind no one ever wants to admit to crying. Yeah, he cries those. How he wishes he could snap himself out of it, but there’s nothing to do but wait them out.

He does nothing productive that night; honestly, he’s surprised he found the energy and motivation to get up and wash his face before passing out in his bed. If he dreams at all that night, he doesn’t remember.

* * *

 

The next morning, Minghao decides it’d be too hard for him to avoid Joshua entirely, so he doesn’t. He sits next to Joshua’s best friend in Chinese and every time he catches Joshua’s eyes on him he makes sure to look aloof, unaffected. He refuses to let the soft, almost heartbroken looking gazes get to him. He refuses to feel sorry for Joshua.

He walks out when the bell rings, fast enough to ensure that Josh can’t follow him. He finds his way to the parking lot across the street, sits his ass down on the pavement, and lights a cigarette. He’s not proud of it by any means, but he needs the stress relief. All goes well until he looks up to see the last person in the world he wants to speak to walking directly towards him.

“Minghao.” Joshua’s voice is soft; it makes Minghao sick to his stomach. It may be petty, or bratty, or rude, but Minghao refuses to look at Joshua anyway.

“What do you want?” Minghao asks. He gets the brilliant idea of trying to piss Joshua off, and lights a cigarette, smirking at the thought of Joshua’s nose wrinkling with the sharp smell of smoke.

“I want to talk to you.” Joshua clears her throat after he says it, and Minghao hopes it’s because of him.

“I thought you didn't want anything to do with me,” Minghao replies, bitter seeping into his voice more than he wants it to. He scuffs his shoe across the pavement, not sure what he's hoping for Joshua to say next.

“Don't put words in my mouth,” Joshua snaps, and Minghao can't hold back a laugh at how out of character it sounds.

“Fine,” Minghao huffs. He looks up at Joshua, fixing him with his best glare and trying his damn best to ignore the wrenching feeling in his chest when he sees the way Joshua’s expression softens into one of pity. “What do you want?” he repeats.

“Can I sit?” Joshua asks.

“You can do whatever you want,” Minghao says, snark evident in his voice. He turns his head again so he’s not facing Joshua, but rather the road in front of them.

“Would you mind if I sit?” Joshua rephrases, back to sounding like his kind, patient self.

“No,” Minghao finally answers. “You can sit.”

Joshua does, and Minghao focuses on the sound of his jeans scraping the concrete rather than the feeling of having Joshua so close to him again, of being close enough to reach out and touch him. Not that he would.

“I don’t want you to think that I don’t want to be around you Haohao, I thought this would just be better for you,” Joshua says after a short pause. 

“You always worry about what’s best for me and never what I want,” Minghao points out, taking a drag from his cigarette. “I can’t smoke because it’s bad for me, I can’t like you because it’s bad for me.”

“You don’t deserve to be hurt,” Joshua replies gently. Minghao’s had enough. He gets up without another word, slinging his backpack over one shoulder and still holding his cigarette.

“Minghao!” Joshua calls after him as he walks away, but Minghao refuses to turn around. He just takes another drag, exhaling slowly and watching the smoke rise above his head.

* * *

 

They don't talk again after that. Minghao does everything in his power to avoid Joshua, and Joshua is apparently smart enough to realize when he’s not wanted. He doesn't find Minghao in the hallways anymore, doesn't say hi to him outside, before or after school, and doesn't even look at Jeonghan during Chinese, just to be safe. Minghao is mopey, but whenever he does see Joshua, which does happen, he puts on his best stone-cold asshole face and tries to look like he's fine, like everything is just as it was before he went and caught feelings for a dumb senior. 

Hansol notices, and Minghao knows he does, but he says nothing. He provides more silent support, by leaving Minghao alone without needing to be asked, or wordlessly handing over homework he knows Minghao didn't do because he was too busy hanging around Junhui and trying to avoid the problems in his life.

Junhui seems to understand too. He's nicer than he ever was before, gruffly calling Minghao “kid” (something he must have picked up from Seungcheol) and letting him hang around his house and eat his food, no questions asked. Minghao's sure that Junhui knows what happened, and he thinks that maybe Junhui can understand him in a way others can't, because he's been rejected by Joshua too many times to count.   
Minghao's in pain, yet still life goes on around him. Hansol finally asks the freshman--Yerim--out, and she says yes. They're cute together, and Minghao feels guilty for being jealous of what they have. Seungkwan is still single as fuck, but that doesn't bring Minghao much comfort. Besides, he's sure Seungkwan will land someone eventually. Minghao is almost certain Mingyu is seeing someone, he's just not sure who. School turns into hell, second semester kicking into full gear and kicking Minghao's ass while it's at it. He doesn't start failing, per say, but his grades definitely drop to the point where he doesn't even to bother check them. His parents are as distant as ever, which Minghao is actually grateful for; it seems to be the one thing in his life that hasn't changed.

A week or so post-Confrontation (which is how Minghao chooses to refer to his and Joshua’s last conversation in his head), Junhui catches him on his way into the building, and for once Minghao’s not immediately offered a cigarette. He's a little confused, but continues to walk in silence, simply acknowledging Junhui’s presence with a small nod of his head.

“Wanna come over tonight?” Junhui finally asks. “My parents are having date night and Fengjun will be at a friend’s house, we can just chill for a while. You look like you need it.”

“Thanks,” Minghao replies dryly. “But yeah, that’d be nice. You any good at trigonometry? Math is kicking my ass right now.”

“Bring it over, I’ll take a look,” Junhui shrugs. “You need a ride to my house?”

“I’ll get one,” Minghao waves it off. “See you tonight.”

* * *

 

When he shows up at Junhui's house, it's Seungcheol that opens the door. Minghao is a little surprised, but it doesn't bother him. He's ushered in with a huffed “hey, kid”, and follows Seungcheol up to Junhui's room. It's just the three of them, but it's less awkward that Minghao expected. Seungcheol is definitely comfortable, lounging back in Junhui’s desk chair with what seems to be not a care in the world.

They make small talk for a while: what’s going on at Seungcheol’s community college, who they know has gotten arrested recently, who may or may not be sleeping with someone else’s ex. All goes well until Seungcheol decides to ask: “So how's your love life, kid?” He sits back in his chair and stares Minghao down. Minghao panics a little, shooting a look at Junhui, who responds with a shrug that says “you're on your own.”

“Nothing to say about it,” Minghao answers, adding a last minute eye roll in a desperate effort to make it seem like he doesn't care. 

“I know Joshua shot you down,” Seungcheol says.

“Jesus,” Minghao groans. “Does he tell you everything or what?”

“He trusts me.” Seungcheol shrugs. “As he should. I only bring it up cause you look like you need advice. Or professional help. I can only provide the first, though.”

“Hear him out,” Junhui suggests, and Minghao is confused.

“Are you, Junhui Wen, suggesting that I actually do something that might be the best for me?” he asks sarcastically, pressing a hand to his chest. “Who are you and what have you done with the bastard?”  


“Shut the fuck up,” Junhui laughs, throwing a pillow at Minghao, which is caught and tossed right back at him.

“You can listen or not, but I’ll talk at you either way,” Seungcheol says, raising an eyebrow. Minghao just nods, accepting his fate. “Are you gonna tell me what happened or do I have to give advice based on what this asshole told me?” Seungcheol asks. On ‘asshole’, he jerks his head towards Junhui, who looks offended for a split second before accepting that it’s true and going back to nursing a bottle of coke. 

“Not much happened,” Minghao shrugs. “I asked him out, he said no, spewed some bullshit about protecting me and we’ve only spoken once since.”

 

“So you’re ignoring him,” Seungcheol states. Minghao nods grimly, lips pressed together in a tight line. “Jesus, kid.”

“It’s not like I have much of a choice,” Minghao tries to defend himself, but his voice and argument are weak, and Seungcheol knows it. Junhui knows it too, judging by the sympathetic look he’s shooting Minghao. 

“You have every choice.” Seungcheol calls him out on his bullshit immediately. “You’re making the wrong choices.”

“And he isn’t?” Minghao asks.

“I can’t do shit about what Josh thinks,” Seungcheol replies. “Even if I did talk to him, even if I could somehow get him to listen, he would not change his mind because he’s probably convinced that this is the best thing for you and anything else would be selfish of him.”

“He’s a dumb selfless bastard,” Junhui offers helpfully. To Minghao’s surprise, Seungcheol just nods in agreement. 

“You're just doing more damage by ignoring him, kid. You're proving him right,” Seungcheol continues. “You want him to treat you like you're not a little kid? Fine, don't fucking act like one. Quit ignoring him and act like you can actually take rejection. Then maybe he'll reconsider.”

“You really think that will work?” Minghao asks. He scowls when Seungcheol responds with a shrug. 

“You have no better options,” Junhui comments, and Minghao sighs in defeat.

“Fine, I'll try that. Now, I came over here to make someone do my trig homework for me and I'm not leaving till that happens.” The abrupt change of subject causes both Junhui and Seungcheol to laugh, but neither of them give Minghao any grief for it. 

When Minghao walks home later that night, he finds himself with a new resolve to pick his ass up off the ground and keep moving with his life. Whether it's from Seungcheol’s advice or the elation of finished math homework he's not sure, but he'll take whatever he can get.

* * *

 

The halls are buzzing with kids talking about prom, and it gets harder and harder for Minghao to ignore them with each passing day. Promposals are the bane of his existence, because all he feels is a sharp pang of bitterness in his chest that makes him put his head down and walk even faster to get to class. 

Hansol knows enough to not ask Minghao to help with his promposal to Yerim, but not quite enough to not work on it at lunch, where Minghao has no escape. Seungkwan’s dramatic tendencies almost have Hansol releasing doves into a classroom, but thankfully Mingyu--and Hansol’s budget--tone it down. Minghao manages the occasional snort whenever the three of them come up with something particularly ridiculous (chocolate body paint became an option at one very, very low point), but other than that he tries to stay out of it. 

There’s rumors buzzing everywhere about who is going to prom with who, but Minghao does his best to avoid them. The last thing he wants to know is what girl Josh asked to prom. He bets she’s pretty, and they’ll probably look good together with matching outfits and a corsage and Josh’s stupid fucking hair that somehow always looks perfect no matter what. Minghao prides himself on his ability to repress his feelings and forget about things, which is why he manages to go the entire week before prom barely thinking about the stupid thing. And then it’s the day of, and he can’t ignore it anymore.

Despite what happened the last time, Minghao finds himself at Junhui’s house yet again. This time it’s not because of an invitation, but he had to get out of the house to distract himself and Junhui’s was the first place he thought of to go. He realizes it’s a bit rude to show up uninvited, but he shoots Junhui a text when he’s a few blocks away in hopes that will make up for it. Junhui greets him at the door, looking half asleep in a loose t-shirt and bare feet nearly covered by baggy sweatpants. 

They don't speak as Minghao follows Junhui up to his room, which Minghao suspects is a side effect of Junhui’s sleepiness. The thought is confirmed by Junhui’s three yawns in the span of time it takes for them to climb one flight of stairs. 

Junhui flops back onto his bed with a deep sigh, and Minghao snatches a pillow from his bed so he can lay on the floor. He stretches out at the foot of Junhui’s bed, ankles crossed and hands beneath his head. 

Of course, even a tired Junhui can only allow for a minute or two of silence before he calls Minghao out. 

“It's prom night and you look mopey as fuck,” Junhui observes. “What's up with you?”  
“Nothing,” Minghao answers defensively. “What about you, why didn't you go to your senior prom?”  
“Prom is stupid,” Junhui scoffs, looking amused that Minghao asked the question in the first place.

“Couldn’t get a date?” Minghao teases, nudging Junhui’s shoulder with his toes.

Junhui snorts. “I could get all the dates. I just didn’t feel like going. If I did, I would’ve asked you and we could have gone and flaunted how hot you are in front of Joshua.”

“You would’ve taken me to prom?” Minghao asks, eyebrows raised.

“I guess,” Junhui shrugs. “You’re like a little brother though, it’d just be to show off that we’re the best looking guys in the whole damn school.”

“Do you still have feelings for Joshua?” Minghao asks, changing the subject slightly.

Junhui shakes his head. “Not anymore. He’s still good looking, but I have other interests.”

“Oooooh,” Minghao grins, dragging out the syllable as long as he can. Junhui rolls his eyes at Minghao before the question is even asked. “Care to share?”

“With you?” Junhui snorts. “You’ll blab to everyone. Less people would know if I shouted their name into a bullhorn in front of the school than if I told you.”

“Okay, not fair,” Minghao defends himself. “One, I am totally trustworthy. Two, I don’t even have that many friends to begin with, who the hell would I tell?”

“Right, I forgot,” Junhui scoffs. “Fuckin’ nerd.”

Minghao momentarily considers homicide, but decides against it because then he really would be a social pariah.

“So,” he prompts. “You gonna tell me or what?”

“Fine. It's Jeon Wonwoo.”

Minghao’s jaw drops. “SGA treasurer Jeon Wonwoo? Straight A student Jeon Wonwoo? Tuba player band geek Jeon Wonwoo?”

“Yes, would you shut up?” Junhui scowls, and Minghao can tell he's pissed off.

“Okay sorry, sorry,” he apologizes quickly. “I just. Wasn't expecting that is all.”

“Why, cause you're the only delinquent allowed to go moony eyed for a good kid?” Junhui snorts.

“Hey, I did not go moony eyed,” Minghao defends. Then a moment later: “Wait. Are you saying you're moony eyed for Jeon Wonwoo? You like him that much?”

“Ask me again in a few days, I may have changed my mind by then.” Junhui’s smirk makes Minghao smile too.

“Shut up, you’re in too deep to forget him,” he replies. Then, to avoid making Junhui uncomfortable: “Wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure,” Junhui shrugs. He pulls out his laptop and opens Netflix; Minghao laughs when the site suggests Junhui continue watching an episode of Grey’s Anatomy.

“It’s my mom, I swear,” Junhui tries to defend himself, but he soon gives up as he realizes that Minghao will never believe him. 

Junhui puts something on, but about ten minutes into the movie, he pauses it to go grab one of his dad’s beers from the garage. He offers one to Minghao, who just shakes his head silently. He’s sad, but he doesn’t quite feel like doing anything about it. He just wants to sit and sulk quietly in a puddle of his own sadness. Junhui returns and resumes playing it silently.

They’re halfway through the movie when Minghao’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He's intent on ignoring it, but Junhui points it out.

“You gonna check that?” he asks. “If it's your mom, tell her I say hi.”

“Fine,” Minghao replies, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He bites his lip when he reads what's on the screen. 

_ From: Joshua _

_ I’m not going to prom. please come over. _

“Something wrong?” Junhui asks, and Minghao jerks his head up with wide eyes, mind listing a million excuses to tell Junhui so he can go see Joshua.

“Mom needs me,” Minghao lies when he finally thinks to talk. “Says it’s an emergency.”

“Good luck dude,” Junhui says, lifting his beer can in something that may have been meant as a salute of sorts but was totally lost on Minghao. 

Minghao grabs his hoodie from the end of Junhui’s bed and leaves without another word, body on autopilot as he zips it up and makes his way outside into the crisp night air. Joshua’s house is walkable from here, especially if he cuts through some backyards and sketchy roads with no sidewalks, but it’ll still be a long haul unless he runs. So he runs. 

Minghao only runs when forced, like when he’s being chased through the halls for being a little shit, or in freshman year gym class where his sprinting skills were the only thing that saved him from failing. Needless to say, it’s been a while, and he can feel the burn slowly building in his lungs, which tingle from the cold air. 

His sneakers squeak on the damp grass when he cuts through someone’s well manicured lawn to get to a back road. What a dismal night for prom, he thinks. Cold and rainy aren’t ideal conditions. Good thing he didn’t go.

Occasionally he passes a house with those damn sensor lights, which make him squint every time they flick on and blind him. He’s getting close though--Joshua’s street is only one or two more blocks further. Minghao’s been acutely aware of his phone this whole time, but it's been still and silent since he left--Joshua hasn't texted him again. 

Minghao’s not sure why he responded. Maybe it was Seungcheol’s advice that he stop ignoring Joshua, or maybe it's because he's hoping Josh has something better to say to him than the first time. In all likelihood, he thinks, it's both. 

He's breathing heavily when Joshua's house comes into sight, but Minghao smiles all the same--he's made it. He gives himself a quick moment to catch his breath before he rings the doorbell.

Joshua opens the door in dress pants and an undershirt, and Minghao is immediately annoyed by the fact that he still manages to look good like that. Once he gets past that though, he notices that Joshua’s hair looks like he's run his fingers through it a million times and his eyes look kind of red and puffy.

“You okay?” Minghao asks, stepping past Joshua and into the entry when he opens the door a little wider.

“Fine,” Joshua shrugs. Minghao doesn’t believe him. 

“Those clothes can’t be comfortable, and you look ridiculous,” Minghao snickers, gesturing to Joshua’s clothes. “Please, save us both and go change.”

“Brat,” Joshua scowls, but he jogs upstairs anyway, presumably to put on more normal clothes. Minghao totally checks out Joshua’s ass in those suit pants on his way up.

He settles in on the couch and waits for Joshua to come back down--when he does, it’s in a soft looking grey v-neck (which Minghao would very much like to touch) and joggers.

“So,” Joshua begins. “Let’s talk.”

“Whoah, we’re talking? I was under the impression I was coming over to sit in silence with you all night.” Minghao’s sarcasm doesn’t go over well, because Joshua glares at him as he sits down next to him. “Sorry,” Minghao apologizes. The word nearly catches in his throat; he doesn't say it often enough. “What do you have to say?”

“I was wrong,” Joshua says, and Minghao has to resist a proud smile.

“Excellent opener. I’m listening.” He’s only half joking.

Joshua rolls his eyes, but continues anyway, a small smile gracing his features. “I was wrong to try and protect you. You’re not a kid, you’re sixteen and you can make your own decisions. So if you decide that dating me is something that you are okay with even though I’ll be going away in a few months, then I should respect that.”

“Okay but,” Minghao interjects. “If you don’t like me back then what is the point of this.”

“I do. I do like you.” Minghao feels like his head is going to explode.

“You do? I thought you still thought of me as a kid!”

“Well, I did for a long time, and then I started seeing you differently, and then I kind of developed some feelings for you but I tried to repress them by treating you like a kid.” Josh sighed. “Clearly that blew up in my face.”

“You think?” Minghao scowls. Joshua smiles sheepishly.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I really was trying to protect you.”

“I know that you asshole. You did an awful job.” Minghao doesn’t intend to be so biting, and the anger in his own words surprises him. Joshua looks wounded, so he tries to remedy the situation. “But don’t worry. I still like you.”

Joshua lights up again. “You do?”

“Of course I do, stupid. Don’t rub it in.” Minghao tries to be nonchalant, but Joshua has this big goofy grin on his face and it’s impossible for Minghao to not smile in return. 

“You like me,” Joshua teases in a sing-song voice, drawing out the vowels unnecessarily. Minghao shoves at him playfully, and Joshua laughs. 

“Whatever, old man,” Minghao jokes. There’s a few moments after that where the laughter dies, and then Joshua voices what they’re both thinking.

“So what now?”

Minghao takes a second to think before answering. “I don’t know about you, but I’m tired and any decisions I make right now are going to be clouded by my lack of sleep and how sad I was before I came here.”

“So...you want to sleep?” Josh asks. He looks confused, but a cute kind of confused that makes Minghao want to kiss him. He’s not sure how he manages to restrain himself.

“Yes. Sleep sounds good, if that’s alright with you,” Minghao nods.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Joshua gets up first, extending a hand to Minghao who doesn’t hesitate before taking it. They make their way upstairs slowly, and Minghao manages to take off only his socks and shirt before collapsing into Joshua’s bed. Josh lays down next to him without a second thought, pulling his comforter over the both of them.

“Is your mom gonna think it's weird I’m in your bed?” Minghao asks, barely able to get through the question. 

“Don't worry about it,” Joshua mumbles in reply, so Minghao doesn't. He lets himself drift off to sleep instead, lulled by the calming sensation of where Joshua’s body meets his own.   


* * *

 

Minghao wakes up to the sound of a shower running. It takes work to pry his eyes open, but when he finally succeeds he's hit by golden white rays of sunlight, and has to squint to save his eyesight. The next thing he notices is that Joshua is no longer in bed next to him, and Minghao doesn't bother to stop himself from reaching out and touching the sheets where Joshua slept last night. They're still warm, but he's not sure if it's from the sunlight or if it means that Joshua just left.

Minghao can't really believe that last night actually happened. He thinks back to what he said, biting his lip as he realizes that he'd let his guard all the way down. Joshua couldn't actually like him. Maybe he was just psyching himself into it to spare Minghao’s feelings or maybe it was something else, but it's impossible for what he'd said to be true. It just doesn't make sense.

He tries to shake the nagging thoughts as his stomach rumbles long and low and he sits up, trying to gauge what time it is. There's an old alarm clock with red numbers on the bedside table, because Joshua is old school like that and probably doesn't use his phone for anything other than texting and calling. It says it's only 10 am, but Minghao isn't sure he believes it. But when he checks his own phone (which is close to dying--he makes a mental note to ask Joshua for a charger), it says the same. 

Minghao is still half naked, and he figures that should probably put some clothes on just in case someone happens to walk on, so he swings his legs over the side of the bed and roots around in the pile of clothes on the floor until his finds his jeans, tugging them on sluggishly, one leg at a time. 

He sits back down on the edge of the bed and presses his palms to his eyes, trying to wake himself up for good so he can get out of Joshua’s house and avoid what could be a very awkward conversation with Joshua’s mother, but his head jerks up when he hears the bathroom door open.   
Joshua’s there, toothbrush in his mouth and nothing but a towel around his waist. Minghao gulps, trying to keep his eyes trained above Joshua’s shoulders. 

“Good morning,” he manages to get out as soon as he remembers to speak. Joshua warbles something that may have been a reciprocal greeting, but is too mangled by the toothpaste to be recognizable to Minghao’s ears. Joshua soon realizes this himself, and holds up his index finger to Minghao in the universal gesture for “one minute please”. Minghao puts his hands on the bed behind him to steady himself as Joshua ducks back into the bathroom, and he can’t stop himself from checking out Joshua’s shoulders and back as he retreats. Minghao never thought of himself as anything close to a swooning damsel, but in that moment he can imagine an alternate world in which he would put the back of his hand to his forehead and faint. 

As Minghao tugs his tee shirt on and grabs his hoodie from the floor, Joshua emerges from the bathroom once again, this time with a pair of boxers on and no toothbrush in his mouth. He swipes the back of his hand across his mouth before greeting Minghao properly. "Good morning," he repeats--this time, much more understandable.

"How'd you sleep?" Minghao asks--he figures it's polite. 

"Just fine," Joshua replies quickly. "You?"

"Good," Minghao nods, pursing his lips. 

"That's good." Joshua nods too. The awkwardness is palpable, and Minghao can't stand it. He decides it's best just to rip the bandaid off.

As Joshua makes his way over to his dresser to grab a shirt, Minghao asks: “So what is this?” He gestures to the air between them. “I like you. You like me too, apparently enough to give a sappy apology and then let me sleep in your bed. Does this mean you've gotten over your dumb idea that you’ll hurt me?”

“It wasn't dumb, it was a perfectly rational fear,” Joshua defends quickly, tugging a well-worn tee shirt over his head. “But yes, I'm over it. I like you, I want to have an actual relationship with you.”

“Why are you over it? What happened?" Joshua apparently wasn't expecting questions, judging from the way his brows furrow in confusion. "What happened?" Minghao repeats. He feels like he's ruining it somehow, like he should just shut up and accept what he's got, but he knows that would be a disservice to the both of them.

It's clear that Joshua's thinking, because he purses his lips and leans back against his dresser, hands behind him. Minghao waits.

"I had a conversation." It's not exactly what Minghao was expecting, but it's not a bad start. "I had a conversation with Jeonghan in which--"

"Wait," Minghao interjects. "Who the fuck is Jeonghan?"

"My friend? The guy you've sat next to in Chinese for nearly a year now?"

"Oh. Yoon. Okay, continue." Joshua rolls his eyes, but he does as he's told.

"I had a conversation with Jeonghan in which he told me that I was two things: stupid for trying to deny the fact that I liked you and an asshole for not telling you the truth from the start," Joshua says. He looks nervous, and Minghao feels a little bad for making Josh justify himself. Nevertheless, he continues with the questioning.

"So just like that, you changed your mind?"

"Not just like that no, I thought about it. I thought about it a lot but even then I thought you wouldn't want me anymore," Joshua continues. "Then Seungcheol texted me last night, saying that now was as good a time as ever. I think he said Junhui told him you were upset. So I asked you to come over and here we are.

“There's a part of Minghao that starts cheering, telling him that this is really happening and that it really is this good. But he still can't let Joshua off that easy.

"Okay, prove it then. Take me out." Minghao lifts his chin, crossing his arms over his chest. He's still skeptical, but he figures if Josh doesn't actually want this then a date will be the way to figure it out.

“Now?” Joshua asks skeptically, both eyebrows raised and brow scrunched comically. 

“No not now, later. Tomorrow night? We can get dinner,” Minghao suggests.

“Pick you up at six?” Joshua asks. Minghao nods, standing up and stretching his linked hands far above his head, rising up on his toes to lengthen his body as much as possible. Joshua's eyes seem to wander, and Minghao smirks when he realizes that Joshua must be looking at his stomach, exposed when his shirt rode up. 

“I've got to get home before my mom flips out,” Minghao says, still smiling. Joshua snaps back to attention, eyes back on Minghao’s face. 

“Do you need a ride?” Joshua asks, but Minghao shakes his head.

“I'll walk,” he replies. He goes to brush past Joshua, heading for the door, but Joshua grabs his wrist before he can leave. Minghao opens his mouth, ready to ask why, but then Joshua’s lips are planting a soft kiss on Minghao’s jaw and all thoughts leave his brain. Needless to say, he practically floats the whole way home.

* * *

 

Their first date is disastrous. Joshua takes him to Chick-Fil-A and in his nervous fidgeting ends up spilling sand from the vase of fake flowers all over the table and bench. Minghao laughs it off, nearly cackling when a pink faced Joshua has to explain what happened to an employee. The second date is worse; all Minghao is willing to remember is that he had no idea llamas could spit so far.

Things get better after that. The school year ends and summer passes in a lazy haze of kisses and cuddles. Everything is PG-13 and below, because Joshua is a good Christian boy and Minghao has manners, but it's not like Minghao minds. He's just happy he gets to call Joshua his boyfriend. 

But the summer days start getting shorter, and Minghao and Joshua both have to face the fact that Joshua has to go to college.

They’re cuddling on Joshua’s bed, Josh’s leg slung over Minghao’s hip and his hand buried in Minghao’s bleach blond hair. It’s quiet, just the gentle sounds of their breathing and the occasional rustle and creaking of the bed as they shift. Joshua speaks first. 

“What if I’m not ready for college?” 

Minghao scoffs at that. When Joshua doesn’t say anything more, he averts his eyes from the popcorn ceilings to Joshua’s face. “What, are you serious? Josh, you’ll make college your bitch, don’t worry.”

“Minghao,” Josh scolds softly. “I am serious.”

“I'm serious too. You know I would have failed sophomore year if not for you.” Minghao keeps his voice low, soothing. He brushes Joshua’s hair up off his forehead, and Joshua looks up at him with wide eyes.

“Thank you,” Josh replies. “For everything. For still being with me, for supporting me. Just...thank you.” Minghao isn’t ready, doesn’t know what to say, so he kisses Joshua, a soft press of lips to buy him time. (Also totally not because he wants to kiss his boyfriend or anything like that.)

When they part, he’s found the words. “Don’t mention it.” He’s met with a smile and even more kisses.

* * *

 

It's hot, much too hot for Minghao's comfort. Sweat is beading on his forehead and making his baby hairs stick to his skin, but he just takes a deep breath and powers through the discomfort, adjusting the cardboard box in his arms as he takes the concrete steps two at a time. Dodging the other students is easy when he's zoned in on Joshua's back, following his boyfriend through the crowded halls of his new dorm.

California summers aren't kind, extending long into August and early September, which Minghao hadn't factored in when he agreed to help Joshua move in. Not that remembering the temperature would've changed his mind, but maybe he'd have been more prepared. Luckily, they're on their last load, which is good because Minghao's not sure how much longer he'll be able to stand the smell of all these teenagers in an enclosed, barely air conditioned space.

They finally make it to Joshua's room, and as soon as the boxes are set down on his bare desk, both of them flop down on the bed (still bare of sheets--they'd fix that in a minute). Joshua's parents were still down on the ground, probably attempting to straighten up the car before they bring down more empty bags and boxes to be loaded into it, so the two boys took advantage of the moment they had alone. Joshua reaches over, eyes still fixed on the ceiling but his fingers finding Minghao's with ease anyway.

His palm is sweaty but Minghao takes Joshua's hand anyway, rubbing his thumb over one of Joshua's knuckles in time with his own heart beat.

"It's normal to be this scared right?" Joshua asks, breathless voice breaking the silence of the room.

"Totally," Minghao replies easily. If he focuses, he can hear the hum of other students in the hallway, but he tunes them out. All he wants to hear is what Joshua has to say.

"I'll miss you." Minghao isn't quite ready for that. Joshua has said it before, but it was in the safety of places they know as home, not here. Here, where it feels so much more real than before.

"I'll miss you too," Minghao says, almost without thinking. He doesn't have to--he knows it's going to hurt being apart from Joshua.

"The drive isn't bad," Joshua replies. "I'll be back for some weekends and most holidays."

"Yeah," Minghao agrees. "I can come see you too, now that I have my license." Joshua inhales deeply, and Minghao can hear the rustling of sheets and the creak of the bed frame. He turns, and he and Joshua are face to face, noses almost touching and Joshua's breath ghosting over his Cupid's bow.

"We'll make it work." There's no shake to Joshua's voice, and a steely determination in his eyes that Minghao has only seen a few times before but knows well enough to know that Joshua means exactly as he says.

There's a knock at the door--Joshua's parents, most likely, and the moment is gone. The boys sit up immediately, Minghao tugging his shirt down from where it rode up to expose his stomach. Joshua gets up to open the door, but presses a quick kiss to Minghao's cheekbone before he does. It's then that Minghao adopts the same resolve he saw in Joshua's eyes; he worked too hard for this, and he'll be damned if he lets a little distance take it from him. They'll be alright, he tells himself, and he believes it.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr [here](http://antijosh.tumblr.com) or on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/pwjno). i'm not so good about replying to comments but if you contact me through tumblr or twitter i'm much more likely to answer


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